


(Not a) Smooth Operator

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Casual Sex, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer's not used to picking up gorgeous strangers at bars, but he's definitely not going to miss the opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not a) Smooth Operator

“Not really your kind of scene, is it?” A tall man slides onto the empty space next to Spencer, leaning up against the bar with a half-empty beer in hand. Reid glances out onto the dance floor, where his friends are doing their best to dance to the unfamiliar country song. 

“Bars are never really my ‘kind of scene’,” Spencer answers, shrugging one shoulder and going for another sip of his watery Jack and coke. Tall Guy just nods, eyes roving over the crowd until they land on a similarly-tall guy across the room. 

“Not really mine either. More my brother’s, but it beats being alone.” 

There’s a silence - well, silent as a noisy bar on a Saturday can be - before the guy shifts nervously, picking at the label on his beer. 

“Buy you a drink?” Tall Guy asks at last. 

Spencer blinks, surprised by the question. “What’s your name?” 

Tall Guy looks confused, then laughs a little, eyes dropping to the floor so he looks shyer than any man his size should. “I’m Sam. Sam Wesson.” 

“Spencer Reid. Are you joking about that drink?” 

“Not at all, but it doesn’t have to mean anything if you’re not interested. Offer still stands.” 

Spencer almost laughs, but manages to catch himself in time. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that. Just not another Jack and coke, okay?” 

Sam laughs, dimple cheeked and sunny. “Sure.” 

Watching as Sam leans over to order another beer and an amaretto sour, Spencer breathes an internal sigh of relief when there’s no attempt of a slight at hand. Maybe working at the BAU has made him too paranoid after all. 

They drink and watch Spencer’s friends and Sam’s brother as they dance and flirt and play rounds of darts. The amaretto goes down better than the Jack did, and Spencer’s almost sad when he knocks back the last swig. 

“Is this the part where you ask me if I want to get out of here?” He goes for teasing and lands somewhere east of awkward, but Sam just pinks up and smiles. 

“Only if you want.” 

Spencer casts one look back at his friends and nods. “Yeah. I want.” 

Sam makes brief eye contact with his brother, exchanging subtle nods. Spencer manages to catch Hotch’s eye and gestures at the tall man he’s following out the door. Hotch looks surprised, then amused as he nods. 

Spencer doesn’t feel as surprised as he should when Sam walks him back to the motel nearby. It’s not nearly as nice as where he and the team are staying, but that doesn’t matter. There are two beds, and the cleaner one must be Sam’s because that’s where he ends up pinned down by a mountain of soft skin and muscle. 

Sam’s demeanor changes as soon as he gets his hands on Spencer; he’s rough and demanding, but Spencer isn’t going to complain. It feels good to have someone wanting him badly enough to make the seams on his shirt pop in protest and the sound of his zipper sound like a crack with how fast Sam yanks it down. 

“Wanna fuck you. That okay?” Sam breaks for just a moment, dark eyed and tousled to look down at Spencer. 

“More than,” Spencer answers, spreading his legs to make room for Sam between them. Lube and a condom gets dug out of Sam’s jeans, and Spencer snatches the packet of lube away before Sam can open it. “Let me.” 

Drizzling lube over his fingers, Spencer runs them around his hole, sucking in a breath at the cold liquid. Sam can’t seem to hold back, pushing Spencer’s legs up and apart so he can watch with hungry eyes. 

“Is that enough?” he asks hoarsely when Spencer stops after only a couple of minutes, groaning when clever fingers roll the condom on and slick him with the last of the lube. 

“I like the burn,” is all Spencer says in reply. They moan aloud together when Sam sinks in, sweaty temple pressed against Spencer’s during the long, slow first thrust. 

Wrapping his long legs around Sam’s waist, Spencer coaxes him into a quick, hard pace. Spencer’s not shy about slipping a hand down to stroke himself, watching muscle ripple with hooded eyes as the gorgeous man above him fucks him. 

Sam dips down to nip at Spencer’s neck, earning a gasp and a hand in his hair. 

“Sorry I-” 

“No, it’s - just not above the collar.” Sam laughs like he understands and goes for Spencer’s chest, sucking a hickey into the skin right next to his left nipple before running his tongue over the little bud itself. Spencer’s chest is going to be a mess with the way Sam’s sucking and biting at it, but it’s not like anyone else will see. No, he’s going to relish those marks for as long as they last. 

“Harder,” Spencer urges, tugging at Sam’s hair. The loud moan startles him, and he huffs a laugh at the sharper jab of hips. He plays with the strength and the direction of his pulls until neither of them can focus; Sam’s pounding desperately and Spencer can’t concentrate with the way his prostate is getting hammered. 

Sam growls curses into Spencer’s ear as he comes, grinding in deep and helping Spencer to reach his orgasm. He spills thickly between them, splashing up against Sam’s abs and across his own belly. 

Spencer’s sweaty and floaty and grateful that Sam has the wherewithal to pull out and toss the condom before flopping down beside him. He’s not expecting to get pulled in for a cuddle, but accepts the affection anyway. He sighs when his phone rings, shooting a baleful glance at is crumpled pants. 

“Need to get that?” Sam questions, running one hand over Spencer’s back. 

“No. Probably just my friends making sure you haven’t killed me and left me in a ditch.” The phone stops ringing for a few moments, but picks right back up. Spencer rolls out of bed, grumbling the whole way as he picks up. 

“Reid. Yeah, I am. No, Hotch I’m -  no, don’t- Hi, Morgan. I’m at the motel down the block. Yeah I’ll meet you outside let me just get dressed first. Well what did you think I was doing?” Spencer hangs up, and grabs his jeans, shimmying into them and gathering up his boxers to stuff in his pocket. 

“Sorry I uh. Should go. Thanks?” 

Sam just smiles that same, dimpled smile as he pulls his own clothes back on. “No problem. It’s good that your friends worry. Have a good night.” 

Spencer doesn’t ever expect to see Sam again; he fully intends for the man to be some of his favorite masturbation material, but he’s not ready for the headlines about a pair of serial killer brothers or the familiarity of the man in the pictures when the Winchester case file lands on his desk. 


End file.
